


and you are not alone in this

by hislittlebunny



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Humor, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hislittlebunny/pseuds/hislittlebunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Basically, what the Hunger Games universe would look like if it was written by Sarah Dessen and created by the makers of Juno. I don't own anything. Rated T for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.

It started with a kiss.

  
Peeta and I had been laying around in the Meadow of our small town of Panem, Virginia, watching the sun fall over the rolling hills of the Appalachian Mountains. We had been just sitting there, not talking, not even looking at one another- just staring into the distance. Both of us were a little drunk, and every once in a while, one of us would let out acontented sigh, or a chuckle. It wasn’t until the sun had completely disappeared from sight that I turned to one of my life-long best friends, and began to speak.

"You ever _kiss_ anyone, Peeta?”

The words surprised me more than him, I think, but he answered me nonetheless with a quick shake of the head. I hadn’t been expecting that- Peeta was- and is- a very attractive male, popular, and athletic. I had been hearing girls whisper about him, and Gale, too, for weeks. My close attachment with the two most sought after boys in school sure didn’t help my reputation.

“Me, either.” I laid back and stared at the night sky, as I willed the first diamond star to twinkle in the sky. I tried ignoring the flood of relief that tinged the back of my brain.

“Really?” His voice was shocked, and I closed my eyes and easily pictured his face. His eyebrows must have been raised so high that they would have been obscured by his thick, curly blond bangs. His eyes would have shined, despite the darkness surrounding us, and his cheeks were probably still flushed due to my earlier inquiry. “I just always thought… I mean, with you and _Gale_ -?” Peeta gulped audibly.

I didn’t answer, but instead rolled over so we were face to face. Everyone always thinks that it’s Gale. My sister did, for a while, ‘til I convinced her that me dating Gale would be like me dating Haymitch. She pulled a face, but I think it got through to her, because she never brought it up again. I leaned forward carefully and pressed my lips against his.

They were softer than I expected.

It took him a moment to adjust, but once he did, his arms wrapped around me, and he groaned. I opened my mouth to catch a breath, and felt his tongue probe into my mouth.

It shocked me to my core, but I kept kissing, rubbing my tongue experimentally against his.

We kissed more and more, rolling in the meadow. I felt his heart pound against mine. I felt his hands rub up and down my back- mine had somehow found their way around his neck and my hands were playing in his thick curls.

I pulled away from Peeta and stared at him. His lips were plump, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark blue. I made a split decision and ripped my shirt off. Peeta’s mouth gaped open in shock.

I put a silencing finger over his mouth and proceeded to tug at his shirt. He sat up in compliance and pulled it off himself.

I leaned in to kiss him again, and felt his hands hovering over my back. I leaned back so he was forced to touch me, and heard him gasp. I kept kissing him, though, and eventually sat in his lap. I felt his hardness against me. I gasped.

I stood up, and gestured for him to, too. He gave me a confused look, but when I began to undo my pants and pull them down, he got the hint. He ripped his off so fast that he fell. I laughed at him, until he, the damn wrestler he is, grabbed my leg and pulled me down with him. I landed beside him with an _oof_ , and glared at him. He sighed and pushed my hair out of my face.

It was then that I realized we were lying together in our underwear. My body was still pulsing, and it wasn’t going to get any better, so I unceremoniously yanked off my bra and my underpants. He pulled off his boxers.

We stared at each other for a long time, until, slowly, he leaned in to kiss me. He grabbed my breasts. I smiled into his kiss. He covered me with his body.

We had sex, out in that meadow, as the first stars twinkled in the sky.


	2. Chapter 1

That was two months ago, in the middle of July. Just after Prim’s 13th birthday. Haymitch had let us older kids drink a little bit of wine… I probably shouldn’t have had any, but Gale had dared me to. That night was so fun- Prim got everything she wanted: Peeta brought the prettiest cake I’ve ever seen, and Gale got her a new dress (I guess his mom made it) and Haymitch stayed sober the whole night (that is, until the wine was passed around). I smiled a lot that night.

Now, I’m standing in the school’s bathroom, on a Thursday afternoon, on the verge of crying.

It was a stupid night, a stupid accident, and now I’m _pregnant_. I angrily wipe the tears that fall down my face and want to punch the wall of the bathroom stall. I don’t, however. I stuff the test in the tampon dispenser on the side of the stall and walk out. If I wasn’t shaking with fear, anger and sadness, I’d be laughing at what I bet the shocked janitorial staff would look like. My almost-friend, Madge, is staring at me, waiting. She’s the one who got me the tests.

My family’s too poor to afford pregnancy tests, and I’d never be able to muster the courage to ask for one. Actually, I don’t really _have_ a family. Just Haymitch. And I’d rather head-butt a brick wall than ask him. Gale would probably be mad, and storm off, or not believe me. And Peeta… Yeah, wouldn’t that be awkward?

But with Madge, there’s enough unfamiliarity that shame doesn’t apply to our friendship.

Madge is the first girl who ever talked to me at school. Most girls wouldn’t give me the time of day; I was scrawny with a permanent scowl etched on my face. “No one’s ever accused you of being soft, sweetheart,” Haymitch would joke when I’d come home and complain about the whiney, bratty girls in my class. But Madge was quiet. She sat by me at lunch when Peeta was too busy with his brothers or other friends. She didn’t ever ask me about my skinny wrists or missing family. She didn’t ever make fun of me for having messy hair, or wearing the same clothes twice in one week.

I don’t know much about Madge, aside from the fact that her dad is the mayor and her mom’s crazy. Everyone knows it. Mayor Undersee is a regular at the pharmacy, picking up his wife’s ‘sleeping pills’, but we all know better than that.

I ask her if anyone’s in here, and she shakes her head. I sigh. I look down at my toes (Prim had convinced me to let her paint them light blue) that are peeking out of my soft brown sandals that Haymitch found in his old closet. We don’t get new clothes every year, so mine are mostly hand-me-downs from my mom, his mom, or his older sister. His entire family died in a house fire when he was 16. He was out wreaking havoc on our little town, and has never forgiven himself for not being there.

I grasp my arms around my waist, and gather the courage to tell Madge, who’d been waiting patiently.

“I’m pregnant.”

She doesn’t say anything, but grabs me and pulls me into a hug, while I rest my head on her shoulder. If anyone had walked in and saw us, they’d be shocked. I’m known in school as the quiet weird girl, who makes bitchy comments if people get too close. The only friends I’m known to have are Gale, Peeta and Madge. Most people in school prefer my younger sister, Primrose, to me. She’s sweeter, kinder and all around friendlier than I am.

Haymitch has been known to call me a bitch at times, but he always apologizes.

I try to hold back my tears as I imagine their reactions.

Haymitch would lose it- I’m talking absolutely-fucking-lose it. He would scream and punch walls and call me selfish. _We barely have enough money around here as is, Katniss,_ he’d shout, _what in the world made you think it’d be a good idea to get knocked up?!_

Or, worse, he wouldn’t care. He’d just shrug and take another drink of his whiskey, and head to his room. It all depends on how drunk he’d be. Maybe I’d have Prim warn him… Oh, Prim.

Primrose would be sad for me, but a tiny part of her would be happy. She would love a baby to take care of. If anyone could raise a child in our broken home, it’d be her. She has been taking care of the mangy cat, Buttercup, since she’s been five, and it’s now a picture of health. Not to mention that Primrose has always loved Peeta, and this would give him more reason to hang around-

I pause. Peeta.

Peeta is one of the more popular guys in school, regardless of being friends with me. He doesn’t let what people say affect him; he’s always smiling and friends with _everyone_. His older brothers, Bannock and Rye, were also popular, but for very different reasons. They were the ‘guy to date’ in high school. Peeta’s just a great friend. It doesn’t mean girls aren’t lining up to date him (because they are), but he’s always told me he doesn’t need any more women in his life, besides Primrose and I. I always laughed at that. Now I just feel guilty. He’ll never be able to get a girlfriend if I have this baby. I’ll never be able to get a job, or go to college…

If I have any hope of living a normal life, I have to get rid of this baby. _Fast_. I know of clinics. Gale once came to me one night last year, almost crying. His then girlfriend got knocked up, and _got rid of it_ without telling him.

It crushed him, and he hasn’t been the same since. I _can’t_ do that to Peeta, who is always thinking the best of people- especially me. When I talk crap on his other best friend (Delly Cartwright) for being altogether a too positive and friendly person, he doesn’t yell at me. He listens and makes jokes until I’m not mad anymore. And when Gale and I fight (because we’re so similar and always bickering), Peeta always talks to both of us and mediates until we’re okay again. Peeta is the glue of our friendship, I like to think, and I think Gale agrees, too.

I remember the first day of school. Everyone was pointing and laughing at me- the young girl being carted to school by the neighborhood drunk. People were whispering, _how’d_ he _get custody?_ Everyone knew the story of Katniss Everdeen- her pa had been killed at work, and her ma went crazy and ran off soon after. Primrose had only been a baby.

Most parents warned their children to stay away from me, as if tragedy was a disease and anyone could catch it. I remember stumbling over to a picnic table, and sitting down. Haymitch had already went back home to Prim, and I had to be a big girl. My head weighed heavily on my hands.

It wasn’t until he came over, with his chubby cheeks and curly blond hair. “Can I sit with you?”

I didn’t answer him, which he took as a yes, and sat down beside me. “I’m Peeta Mellark, and you’re Katniss Everdeen. Your dress is really pretty.”

I raised my head and stared at him in shock. “Thank you…” I responded, feeling suspicious.

“My dad gave me some snacks to eat before school. Would you like one?” I looked down. They were flaky pastries, smelling of strawberries. I wanted to resist, but my growling stomach wouldn’t let me. I nodded shyly. He gave me one, and we ate them together. It became our tradition- it became our _friendship_.

But if I tell Peeta, he won’t let it go. He won’t let me get rid of it. He’ll make up some crazy scheme and get me to keep it and we’ll raise it and be a family… Because Peeta loves family, even though in that category, he’s really been dealt a fucked up card.

I shake my head at the thought of raising a baby in a home with Peeta. _Yeah, right_. That’ll happen after his mother admits she’s a crazy bitch and my mother comes home.

Peeta doesn’t deserve to be held down by the likes of me, and some baby that he doesn’t know exists. He has so much to look forward to- his family can _afford_ college, and I’m sure he’s got scholarships waiting for him. Unless there’s a scholarship for being an apathetic, class-skipping, lazy teenager, I doubt I’m on any lists. And even if he didn’t go to college, the bakery is his once he graduates. His older brothers both want to move out of town. Either way, he doesn’t need unnecessary weight holding him back. He needs freedom, and I refuse to take that from him.

Not to mention his mother would absolutely kill him. She would spread rumors about me and treat me as a pariah, but I know the Mellark matron has an awful side to her- she never hesitates to hit or slap her sons for the simplest of things.

Once, Peeta stole a loaf of bread for me and Primrose when Haymitch was too drunk to get out of bed to cook for us. Primrose was four, and I was eight. She had been crying all day out of hunger, and I couldn’t stand it. I hadn’t imagined Peeta would save us that day. I just wish I could have returned the favor. His mother had retaliated against his stealing and beat him with a wooden serving spoon.

He came to school the next day with a bruise on his cheek and more up his arms, but he still smiled that same self-satisfied smile.

Peeta Mellark has been my best friend for so long, doing selfless things for me and taking care of me. He has done more for me as a friend then I’ve seen some married couples do for one another. I will never know _why_ he cares about me so much, but today is the day I have to pay him back. I cannot keep this from him, but I can’t keep it, either. I blink away more tears.

I pull out of Madge’s grip. “Thanks, for everything.” For a mayor’s kid, she really isn’t that bad. She’s the only friend I have that didn’t force their way into my life. She just kind of slipped in.

“No problem… do you need me to get you anything?” I’m sure she’s just as clueless as what to do as I am.

“I think I’ll be okay. But I got to go find somebody.” I tell her, reaching down to grab my bag. I catch her eye as I’m about to leave and she winks.

“Peeta?” She asks. I glare at her, and without answering, turn out the door.

I can hear her laughing all the way down the halls.

* * *

 

I don’t find Peeta ‘til after classes, in the gymnasium. We don’t have any classes together this semester, but that’s fine with me. Meeting with him in class would be too messy, too public, and Peeta isn’t the best at hiding his emotions.

He has wrestling practice until four, Mondays through Thursdays. I usually don’t stay to watch them, but today is important. I asked Gale to walk Primrose home. She protested lightly, saying she wanted to stay and watch Peeta, too, but I know about her crush on Rory Hawthorne, Gale’s youngest brother, and I know she can’t resist a few minutes with him. All I had to do was sweetly remind her that Rory would also be accompanying her home, and she shut up and ran to the bathroom to ‘freshen up’. My little duck is growing up too fast.

I walk shakily into the gym and immediately feel bile rising in my throat. This gym smells like _ass-_ like high school boys who haven’t yet discovered water or soap.

Puking was the first symptom that alerted to me to _this_. I had been sitting at home last weekend, eating some ramen and watching a movie with Prim, when my stomach suddenly heaved and I vomited into my bowl of food. Prim was disgusted and I wanted to cry; I _hate_ puking. I took my temperature and lay down, and stopped eating for the night, thinking it was the flu, but I couldn’t stay away from the toilet. This continued until Wednesday morning, when I got up the nerve to ask Madge for the test.

I shake my head and watch the boys warming up in the middle of the room. Peeta isn’t captain this year, but I have a feeling that next year, he will be. _Just another thing this baby would take away from him_. I glance around the room and notice there are other girls here, watching their boyfriends, most likely. I lock eyes with a girl across the way, with choppy brown hair and a grumpy expression I’ve only ever seen in a mirror, and assume she’s here with a friend as a third wheel.

But after five minutes, no one comes to join her.

I can’t spend this practice staring at people and not thinking about what I have to say, so I close my eyes and create my speech in my head. _Peeta, I’m sorry to say this to you, but…_

Peeta’s hour and a half long practice drags on, and my news weighs heavily on my shoulders. My stomach churns, my face flushes, and I feel sweat poring off my body. I must look disgusting.

Still, when Peeta is done with practice, he immediately runs over to the bleachers where I am sitting. He doesn’t even go shower. He must realize something is wrong.

“What’s up, Katniss?” He asks, and I can’t help but stare at the bulge formed at his nether regions by his wrestling uniform. I shake my head. _This is how you ended up in this situation, Katniss. Wise up!_

I look around the room and check to make sure his oldest brother, Bannock, isn’t here. Bannock graduated three years ago, but since he graduated tech school early (he’s a mechanic) he came back to help out with the wrestling team. Peeta’s other brother Rye, who’s a freshmen in college now, used to wrestle, as well. The Mellarks are known for that, as much as they are their baked goods. Bannock must be talking to the head coach out back.

Bannock and Rye have always been kind to me ever since I became Peeta’s friend. They sometimes treat me like a younger sister, which I love. But that’s when their mother isn’t around.

Susan Mellark has never liked me, and I will never know why, I’m sure. Just from the moment Peeta introduced me to his family, when we were six, I could tell.

She didn’t hate me on spot, so I know it isn’t my looks. It was when Peeta said my name, ‘Mom, this is _Katniss Everdeen_.’ Her once joyous expression twisted to a dark look. She suddenly did not want Peeta being friends with the likes of me. She later told him it was because I came from a _broken home_ , but Haymitch snorted and told me he’d tell me when I was older.

Come to think of it, Haymitch still hasn’t told me. And since I’m pregnant, I’m kind of an adult.

 _Get on topic_.

I direct my eyes into his. His baby blues stare inquisitively into mine. I just want to fling my body against his and kiss him ( _where the_ hell _did that come from?_ ) but I steel myself and sigh.

“I’m pregnant?” It comes out like a question, and I want to stab myself. I am great at talking to myself, but when it comes to saying words out loud, I might as well be speaking Finnish.

Peeta’s face changes through about twenty different expressions before settling on good, old fashioned shock. “Pregnant?”

I nod, and he sits on the bleacher in front of me. “With… mine?”

“Who else?” I ask, and he shakes his head. My tone has become guarded, and I’d hate to be on the opposite side of the glare I’m sending him.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

I shrug. “It’s whatever. I just wanted to tell you that, and to tell you that I’m not keeping it, so there’s no need for any worry.” The words are coming out harsh, and it is not at all how I practiced, but I can’t help it. Something snaps inside of me and I can’t believe he would even ask. Then I get angrier and wonder if something more gave him a reason to ask that. I think of us in the meadow and then think about him in the sack with Glimmer or Clove and I can feel my skin turn bright red.

Peeta’s face goes from stunned to slack. He sobers up and tries to put on a normal expression. “Y-y-you mean like an abortion?” His shaky voice gives away any strength he just had.

“Yeah…” My voice suddenly sounds unsure. How did this happen? The anger has dissipated a little, until his reaction.

Peeta nods (just _nods_ ) and I feel the anger flood back into my body again. He’s supposed to act upset; he’s supposed to beg me to keep his baby. I stand up. I want to blame the hormones but I can’t. Peeta has been _fucking_ other girls and doesn’t want a baby to tie him down. I thought he’d react differently, and it makes my stomach hurt.

“Like I said, I just thought you should know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, Katniss…” Peeta starts, but I’m already halfway across the gym. I feel a tiny bit better as I let the doors slam behind me.

But only a tiny bit.


	3. Chapter 2

I walk back to my house slowly and try to wipe away any tears that slip out. I am not used to crying, and I figure it has to do with the baby.

Just another reason to get rid of it. The very thought makes me sick to my stomach, and I lean over and vomit, right on the sidewalk, and feel my face flush. How I have any food left in my stomach is beyond me. Fortunately, four pm isn’t a normal time for people to be out and about- usually men are still at work, women are preparing dinner, and kids are doing homework. I gingerly step around it and run the rest of the way home, escaping the scene of the crime as quickly as possible.

I reach our house and sigh at its familiarity. I had always been around the Abernathy house, even before my dad died and my mom went nuts. My dad had been best friends with Haymitch, and therefore had made him my God-father. No one in our family celebrates any religion, but that’s the best term they could come up with.

People always thought Haymitch and my dad were siblings, so no one argued when he took custody of me and Prim. Dad doesn’t have any real siblings, and mom’s family disowned her when she married my dad. Once again, another thing that I’m supposed to be told ‘when I’m older’. My family sucks.

I don’t remember my parents much. My mother’s name is Carol. Prim is supposedly the miniature of her, though, so I guess I won’t ever forget what the traitor looks like. I don’t really know if she wants me back in her life- she hasn’t written me one letter, but inexplicably, sends me a bracelet every year. They’re always different; one had my name in beads, one was pure gold, one was a tied-friendship bracelet. Every year they end up in the same drawer. According to our small town’s gossip cycle, she hasn’t remarried and is living in a colony where they don’t believe in sleeping at night.

Primrose gets stuffed animals, and I know for a fact that she has thirteen mismatched, ugly ‘friends’ lined up in her bed. She doesn’t ever say anything, I suppose to avoid hurting my feelings, but she misses the mother she never had. I tried my hardest, but there is only so much a sister could do.

My dad, though, he was the best. I remember how strong his grip used to be, how he smelled, and of course, the sound of his singing voice. My dad used to be able to make the birds stop singing, that’s what everyone tells me. Primrose tells me I make birds stop to listen, too, but I don’t believe her. I really loved my dad. He was a local hero for archery; our town did a competition every year and he always won. I guess that’s why I love shooting so much, too. I always pretend he’ll come up behind me at the range and whisper in my ear I’m so proud of you, Kitty. But he’s gone, and he isn’t coming back.

Haymitch’s drunken holler shakes me from my thoughts. “Sweetheart, get your scrawny ass in here!” Oh shit. He has somehow found out about the baby. Someone was in the bathroom. Madge told somebody. He saw me vomit on the sidewalk. My knees grow weak and walking is almost impossible, but somehow I make it up the porch’s stairs and into our mud-room. I take off my sandals and step into the kitchen, where he’s waiting for me.

“What’s this I hear about you staying to watch that Mellark boy wrestle?” Haymitch raises his eyebrows at me, and takes a sip of his liquor. The man is literally always drinking. If he quit, we’d have a lot more money for the house, but the last time I told him that, he didn’t speak to me for a week.

After our week of silence, Haymitch finally came clean to me, and I found out why he drinks. His wife had died during childbirth, while he was over-seas, fighting battles and killing enemies- he had only been twenty two. My God-father is a veteran, and adding this to the deaths he had experienced personally (his wife’s, his unborn child’s, his parents and siblings…) hehas seen more tragedy than anyone ever should.

I guess that’s why he was my mom’s first choice for a guardian.

Haymitch isn’t particularly fond of the Mellarks. Well, he’s friendly with Peeta’s dad, Richard, and he doesn’t mind when I bring Peeta around, but, like me, he has a deep-seeded hate for Susan. She made a crack at him once, something about him abusing me and Prim. It was a ridiculous accusation, but it made good gossip. For a good three weeks, when I was twelve and Prim was eight, people spent a lot of time observing us- watching out for bruises or cuts.

To this day, not one person has apologized to Haymitch.

The irony (is it irony? I’m not good at English) of the situation is that Peeta’s mother is the one who is abusive. On many occasions I’d found bruises across his light colored skin. So different than my drab olive coloring. In the moonlight, that night- Stop thinking about Peeta’s skin.

“I had to ask him about a history assignment. Besides, you know we’re friends.” I hope my words don’t betray the thoughts in my head of Peeta’s smooth, soft body on top of mine.

Haymitch merely grunts in response, and turns to walk out of the kitchen. I roll my eyes, and go to the stairs. I run up them two at a time.

Primrose is waiting in my bed before I have time to speak. “I know your schedule, Katniss, and you aren’t taking any history classes this semester. As a matter of fact, you don’t have any classes with Peeta.”

Sometimes, she shocks me for how smart she is for a twelve year old. I don’t have the energy to argue with her, so I choose to ignore her accusation and instead put my stuff away. I glance at my room- it’s got eggshell colored walls and a few posters, but other than that, it’s not very fun. Compared to Prim’s room… light pink and bed-sheets covered with ballerinas. She thinks it’s embarrassing, but I think it’s cute. It keeps her my little duck for a little while longer.

Prim has been my ‘little duck’ since she was born- dad had called her that when she was a baby and I was holding her for the first time. “You watch over your little sister, okay, Kitty? Take care of our little duck.”

To this day, I’ll never know if it was a spooky premonition, or just my dad being emotional, but either way, I have been determined to take care of my little sister, and never let anything happen to her.

“What were you really meeting him about?” She inquires, her eyes piercing into my soul. Her eyes are blue, like Peeta’s, and it makes my stomach flip.

“Nothing, little duck. Don’t worry about it.” I tell her, and I ruffle her hair in distraction. She pouts at me, and I can see in her expression that she isn’t going to give up. I don’t give her the chance to argue any longer, and grab my bow and arrows. I stuff them into my bag and give her a look. “I’m going to the range; be sure to tell Haymitch if he asks.”

I say the last part sarcastically; the both of us know he won’t. He’ll probably be drunkenly sleeping in an hour. Primrose humors me, however, and agrees as I head out of the house.

However, instead of turning down the familiar path to the range, I head towards downtown, where the clinic is waiting for me.

I’ve only heard about it. It’s a cold, simple place with magazines and friendly employees. Gale’s ex-girlfriend isn’t the only one in town who’s gotten a ‘problem’ taken care of.

I guess I’ll soon be added to that list.

I thank whatever god is watching out for me; the clinic is down a darkened alley that is inconspicuous enough. No one notices me slipping down it.

Unfortunately, I run into someone before I can make a clean entrance into the building.

It’s Annie Cresta, from school. She’s a year older than me, and always been a little off. Her willowy figure looks odd, standing in front of the abortion clinic with her curly brown hair fluttering in the wind.

“Are you going in there, Katniss?” She asks me, her voice serious.

“Yep.” I tell her, and try to get by. She matches my movement, though, and efficiently blocks me from the door. I scowl at her.

“Abortions are bad Katniss.” She holds up a sign that says ‘PRO CHOICE IS SUCH A LIE- BABIES NEVER CHOOSE TO DIE’. “Your ‘fetus’ is a baby; it has fingernails and a heartbeat.”

My stomach does a flip. “It has fingernails?” I haven’t had one person say a negative thing to me about this abortion, and now I’m starting to feel guilty. Then again, the only people who know are Madge, who is never open about anything, and Peeta, who apparently doesn’t want to be tied down. The anger flares up again, so I push past Annie and storm into the clinical building named “Women Now”.

The people inside gasp at my appearance; I probably look as pissed as I feel. I roll my eyes and make my way to the desk. A woman is working the desk. I recognize her from the graduating class from last year. She doesn’t seem to recognize me, but slides me a clipboard. She informs me to fill it out and not avoid any ‘sketchy details’. I thank her sarcastically and sit down. I begin to fill out and realize I can’t even write my name down because my hand is shaking so hard.

I glance around the room. There’s a woman there with a child at her side. Another woman, far more pregnant than me, rubs her belly absently as she skims a magazine. And finally, and most upsetting, a couple sits across from me. The girl is crying, and the boy, who I assume is her boyfriend, rubs her back consolingly. I hear whispers of ‘our only option’ and ‘we have no choice’.

The pen drops from my hand and clatters on the floor. It’s so loud; I wonder how no one else could have heard it. I stand up suddenly, and slide the clipboard back on the counter and run out the door.

“God thanks you for your choices, Katniss!” Annie yells, and I don’t look back.

Instead, I run so fast that my dark braid flies in the air behind me. The only thing I can think about is how I can’t kill my baby, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: I think abortion is the mother's choice and also I realize it's a political view and a moral belief. If you are pro life, great. If you're pro choice, great. I don't care either way- this was just supposed to be a reflection of Juno and the scene with Su-Chin. It also needed to be included because abortion, whether you hate it or not, is something very real that is an option for some people.
> 
> Please, keep your comments constructive and about the story, not about your personal beliefs. 
> 
> Love you all <3


	4. Chapter 3

I don't make it back until dinner. I had spent all evening wandering around, stopping in at the local gas station to grab mine and Peeta's favorite flavor slushie- blueberry. I wonder, absently, if our baby will like that flavor, too. I walk to the spot where our baby was consummated and sigh. _At least it was a beautiful night._ All the anger I had been feeling at him is gone. He might not want anything to do with this baby, but at least I'm not a murderer, or whatever. Maybe it's not murder, but I just can't see myself giving up this baby, now. Besides, it's the best listener in my life, and aside from some hormonal changes, weight gain, and morning sickness, it isn't really _hurting_ me.

It's getting chilly by the time I get home, and while I know Haymitch won't be worried, Primrose must certainly be. I throw my slushie cup in the trash bin outside of our house and enter, prepared to answer any question Primrose has for me.

"Where have you been?" She shouts in a whispered tone, because Haymitch is sleeping in the living room; I can hear his snores. I begin to answer her, but instead, lean over and vomit in one of the decorate vases that Haymitch has sitting in the mud room.

Blue slushie has never looked so unappealing.

"What's the matter?" Primrose is automatically at my side, rubbing my back while I cough up the last of the slushie.

I shake my head as tears well in my eyes and I plop on the floor beside the vase. Prim notices my tears and sits in front of me, holding my hand and squeezing it. I look at her and begin to sob.

"I'm pregnant."

This is the third time I've said this- today- and it doesn't get easier. The silence shakes the room, as Prim covers her mouth in shock.

"Don't hate me," is all I can manage to spit out before the need to vomit surfaces again and I stand up and run to the bathroom. I barely make it before spitting up a _shit ton_ of bile into the toilet. I'm sufficiently grossed out.

Primrose is there in a flash, soothing me and holding a damp washcloth against my head. She leads me to bed where she tucks me in and takes off my jeans. Primrose was born to take care of people. She dreams of being a nurse. I don't know how she deals with the blood. Ugh. Thinking of blood makes my stomach churn again.

Primrose tucks me in, and then crawls into bed to cuddle me. "How could I hate you, Katniss?"

"Because a baby… is going to ruin everything," I feel so guilty saying that, but I can't help it.

Primrose tucks my hair behind my ears and I sigh into her touch. Sleep finds me quickly.

I dream of babies. Lots of babies. Babies crawling everywhere- babies with no faces.

I am not present in this dream, but Peeta is. He's trying to take care of the countless infants, but he can't cope. His mother appears, berating him for sleeping with such trash. Haymitch is there in a flash, but instead of standing up for Peeta, he curses me. "Katniss Everdeen, you little bitch!"

Prim appears in my dream, too. She is thin- too thin. She looks at the babies and sighs. "If only you weren't here… We would have money for food." She slowly withers away into nothing.

And I never come to help them.

I wake with a gasp. Primrose is still cuddled to me. I look at my alarm clock. It's 5 am.

I hear Haymitch clambering around downstairs, and I numbly make my way down there. He's looking for a clean glass to drink out of. Without speaking, I clean one and rinse it for him. He takes it from me silently and pours himself a glass. We sit together, just staring at the counter, before I speak.

"I have to tell you something."

Haymitch doesn't even move, and I wonder if he's heard me, but I continue.

"Peeta and I… we… I'm sort of…"

"Pregnant?" He finishes for me.

I nod, not having the courage to speak anymore. Instead, I look at him and try to question with my eyes, _how_?

He shrugs. "I saw the blue vomit, and you two girls really aren't as quiet as you think you are." I groan.

The room is quiet except for the crickets that chirp outside. In a few months, they'll be gone too. In a few months, I'll be so big that I won't be able to hide my bump from classmates. Peeta's mom will know by then, and Gale…

Gale doesn't even know.

Gale Hawthorne wasn't someone I ever pictured myself being friends with.

But as soon as his dad died, too, when I was twelve and he was fourteen, we connected.

It isn't like there's some 'half-orphan' club at school, but people started talking to him weird. Or, at least, weird to him. They were sorry for him, and he couldn't stand that.

He started hanging out around the range, a place where I'd already been visiting regularly. He was pretty pissed when the director paired him with me, saying I'd be able to teach him a few things, but he got over it quickly when I showed him how to get a bulls eye every time.

From that point on, we were best friends.

Gale had always been sort of jealous of Peeta, though. Maybe because I knew him longer, maybe because he was richer. I'm not sure. I'd asked once, and the answer I got (the cold, icy glare) was enough for me to never ask again.

I wasn't afraid; I just knew Gale would never answer me.

"What are you thinking of, sweetheart?" Haymitch's voice is nicer than I expected. I look up at him. I can't believe I have the ability to form tears anymore, what with all the crying I've been doing, but I can't help it.

"Are you mad?" I answer his question with another question. I'm not exactly comfortable telling him about my inner dialogue, and I don't trust his nice tone entirely.

Haymitch shakes his head. "Can't say I'm happy, but I know you're just a kid, and kids make dumb mistakes. I figured you were smarter than that, but I can't be mad at you." He sips, thoughtfully, and continues. "Things'll be tough, that's for sure. I assume you're telling me because you wanna keep it."

Haymitch knows my behaviors almost as well as Peeta and Primrose do, and I'm pretty sure he has put two and two together and figured out where I was half the day.

I nod, and pull my legs up to my chest. My chin rests on my knees and I look at his glass, half empty. "I just saw this _couple…_ and the girl was crying. They were getting rid of their baby and I couldn't follow through with it. And then crazy Annie Cresta told me my baby has _fingernails_."

"Fingernails, huh, sweetheart?" Haymitch uses his sardonic nickname, but this time, with a more paternal tone. "Well, I understand, and I promise I'll do what I can to help."

I shrug my shoulders. "I can get a job… Rent my own place. This is my mistake." I am not about to accept any more charity from Haymitch.

"Katniss, please. You know that Prim would kill me if I allowed you to move out. And this kid, mistake or not, is gonna need a lot more than what you can provide on your own. Unless, you think Peeta's gonna help out?"

I think back on his facial expressions. His reaction. His lack of freedom. I want to cry. Peeta isn't going to help. Then my brain kicks into gear, and I close my eyes and scold myself. _You stupid girl, you know Peeta isn't like that._

"I'm not sure." I tell my God-father honestly. "I think he'd like to help, but we're only 17. And I think his mom would kill the both of us if we ran off together."

Haymitch looks at me thoughtfully. He looks like he wants to say more, but shakes his head. "You've always been a rebel, girl. Never doing anything the right way. It'd make sense that you'd get pregnant at 17."

"Sorry I can't be perfect like you." I respond, my eyes flicking down to his drink. He guffaws, and downs the rest of it.

"I'd say you should try it, but I guess you can't in your condition."

And just like that, with a snarky argument between me and my useless guardian, my world is fine again. I am able to slip back up the stairs and into my bed without disturbing Prim, and fall back into sleep. No dreams frighten me this time, and I feel better than I did twenty four hours ago.

_Maybe everything will be okay._


	5. Chapter 4

Gale comes, as he does every morning, at exactly seven thirty to walk me and Primrose to school. Joining him is his herd of siblings- Vick, Rory and Posy. Posy seems unable to contain herself this morning, and is bouncing on her toes. Ever since she started going to school a few months ago, she’s become even more adorable than before. She’s obsessed with learning.

“Guess what, Katniss?” She asks as we make our way to school.

“What is that?”

“In class we are learnin’ about flowers! And we learned about posies yesterday!”

I smile at her, and Primrose takes over being excited for me. I stare at the cracks in the pavement as we walk to class. Gale nudges me with his arm. “You aren’t excited about posies, eh Catnip?”

It’s his special nickname for me.

Like I said before, when he arrived at the shooting range, he was pissed that he was being trained by a girl two years younger than him. When the trainer essentially shoved him my way, he glowered at me. “’m Gale.” He mumbled.

I was almost nervous by his sour attitude, which was a first. I mumbled back, “I’m Katniss.”

“Catnip? What kind of name is that?” He sneered at me. I glowered.

“I _said_ Katniss.” I repeated louder.

He laughed. “Katniss ain’t much better than Catnip.” I rolled my eyes, but the nickname had stuck.

I don’t have time for Gale’s jokes today, so I just shrug and keep walking. He is intuitive, and picks up on my behavior, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he turns to Rory, and rants about his politics class.

I can barely pay attention as we make our way to the school, and I wonder what Peeta’s going to say to me when he sees me. I wonder if he’ll know that I didn’t get the surgery done. I wonder if he’ll be excited. I wonder what everyone will think.

My pace quickens, subconsciously, as we approach the school. Gale notices, and is about to tease me, but Prim cuts him off.

I see Peeta, standing by the doors. He’s scanning people who walk by, and I know he’s looking for me. I wonder why he didn’t try to chase after me yesterday. I guess it was shock.

I take a breath and walk towards the front entrance. I feel Gale staring into my back- usually we wait as long as possible before going into the school. But this is important.

I try to make eye-contact with Peeta, and it takes him a few seconds, but once he sees me, his face relaxes. “Hey, Katniss.”

“Hey… Can we talk?” I ask, ignoring the looks from the passer-by. The rumor mill can’t wait to spit out more ‘news’, but I refuse to take part in it.

“Sure…” He nods. We head into the school and walk past the cafeteria where everyone waits for classes to start and go to the wrestler’s practice room. Only wrestlers have keys to that room, and it’s where they go in the mornings for weigh-ins and to avoid eating breakfast together. Peeta leads me through the smelly, mat covered room to the backdoor. There’s no one out there, so we sit together on the cement steps. The wind blows his curls and ruffles them. He looks adorable. _Where is_ this _coming from?_

“Well…” I start, but Peeta, being the sensitive guy he is, interrupts me and begins talking.

“Katniss I am _so_ sorry. I gave you such a poor reaction yesterday… And I didn’t even try to stop you. I know it’s probably too late, and I hope this doesn’t make anything worse, but I just wanted to say that I would have loved to have a baby with you.”

I shake my head. “Peeta, slow down. I didn’t… I didn’t abort it.” It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to say the word- _abortion_ \- and it sounds like poison. I shudder as it comes out of my mouth.

“You didn’t?” He asks. Is that _hope_ I detect in his voice.

“I couldn’t.”

Peeta leans back and shifts his weight to his hands. He lets out a barking laugh into the sky. “Is it bad to say I’m relieved?”

I am perplexed, to say the least, so I just stare at him as the sun lightens his face.

“Katniss… I should probably explain.” He looks at me, suddenly nervous. “I… well… I don’t think it would be best for our friendship for you to abort the baby.”

“Our friendship?” I raise my eyebrows. “In jeopardy over a baby that could potentially ruin both our lives?”

Peeta smiles at me. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

I nod, obliging him that. I rock against his body, and for a moment, everything is perfect.

Then, the bell rings.

“Time to go to class.” I say, and pull myself out of his arms. I can’t help but notice the bright smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing.” He really can’t stop smiling, huh?

I pause before I open the door. “Hey, Peeta… don’t tell anyone, okay?”

He nods, because he understands that I’m not ready. “Sounds good, Katniss.”

His smile must be contagious, because although I feel like I could puke again, I can’t seem to wipe the grin off my face. I have to try though, because we’re going back into the hallways. No one in school is used to my smile. I’m more likely to have a scowl on my face, or a look of disinterest.

Haymitch tells me I look like a proud lion when I walk around kids in my school, like I think I’m better than them. I don’t really think that, not about _everyone_ , at least.

For example, I don’t mind Delly, the girl that sits beside me in homeroom. She’s best friends with Peeta, and has always been kind to me. Then again, she’s kind to everyone. She give me a bright smile as I sit beside her. “Good morning, Katniss!”

“Morning,” I reply, trying to keep my tone bored sounding, despite the butterflies floating in my stomach. Or is it vomit? It’s hard to say.

I don’t talk to anyone else in homeroom, so Delly’s fine. I just let her chatter on about her day; something about going on a date with the _cutest_ boy but how he wanted her to stay out past curfew. “I’m sure he had the best intentions and just wanted to go have more fun, but I could never betray my parents like that!”

I almost laugh out loud at the thought of Haymitch imposing a curfew for me. Then, I get sad, because if my parents were still around, I’d probably have one. And not be pregnant.

“Are you okay?” Delly must be a mind reader. I nod in answer, and pretend to listen to what the homeroom teacher is announcing to us.

She absently pats my back, and then grabs her bag in anticipation for the bell to ring. Sure enough, it frees me from the awkward-yet-friendly atmosphere that Delly almost always encloses around me. I practically run out of the room, and the butterflies change into something more malicious. I dart into a bathroom and luckily make it into a stall before barfing up the meager breakfast I had. I retch as the toilet floods with orange tinted vomit- Haymitch insisted I drink some orange juice this morning. Now I regret it.

I retch one more time before getting up and flushing it. My eyes well with tears, and suddenly the impact of this morning hits me with the force of a dump truck.

Peeta was _relieved_ I decided to keep the baby… but what does that mean? Does he want to be present in its life? Is he just _really_ pro-life?

I moan and lean against the wall of the stall, wishing I could disappear or go home. But I don’t want to create suspicion, and I’ve never missed a day of school. I sigh and go to the sinks. I cup my hands under the running sink and rinse my mouth out carefully. I then pop a piece of gum in my mouth and rub my eyes hard. _This is going to be okay_ , I look down at my belly and sigh. _I promise, baby_.

* * *

 

First period drags on, and so does second period. It seems like it takes forever to reach my favorite class- biology. Anything that has to do with the world and nature is really interesting to me; Peeta and Gale always make fun of me because I’ve always been obsessed with the survival shows. What I don’t tell them is it reminds me of my dad, who used to take me out to the woods all the time when he was still alive. I don’t remember much about it, but I try to stay as close to his memory as possible.

I slide in my seat next to Madge, who is eyeing me carefully. I’m sure she’s waiting for another jaw-dropping statement from me (two days ago I asked her to bring a pregnancy test, yesterday I had told her I was pregnant). I decide I’d better give her one before our teacher begins talking, so I write it on a note and toss it on her desk. It lands in the middle perfectly.

I watch her eyes widen as she reads my note. _I tried and couldn’t get rid of it- now Prim, Haymitch and Peeta know, too. Keep my secret?_

She turns to me as she finishes reading it and nods. Her eyes are still wide.

I turn to face the front of the room, reassured that she’s keeping my secret, and pay attention to our teacher.

“Unfortunately, guys, I’ve gotten some bad news. My wife’s mother is in critical condition out in California, and she can’t be moved in her state. We’re going to move to go take care of her; it’s all very last minute. The school’s getting you a substitute.” We all groan. Mr. Grant, or Darius, as he has us call him, is the coolest teacher ever. I swear, Madge has a tiny crush on him. She always blushes when he calls her name. I turn and look at her; she looks like she wants to cry, although I’m not sure if her reaction is from the news that Darius is moving, or that he is married.

“Your new teacher will be arriving next week, and I expect you all to be kind to her. She’s never taught at a public school before, so just remember: we will call her Miss Trinket, we will not chew in class, and we will not copy one another’s homework.”

The kids in class smirk at each other as our redheaded teacher explains the rules. I can tell what they’re all thinking- Miss Trinket is in for a whole mess of a situation.

I play with a pencil, tapping it against my desk, and think about next week. My belly hasn’t begun to show yet (I don’t think I’m fed enough for it to be expanding), but I have definitely noticed that my boobs are bigger. I’m tired all the time, and the puking leaves a lot to be desired. I look around to make sure no one is looking, and drop my hands to run along my stomach. I’ve been doing this absently for a while now; I’m surprised no one has caught me.

My attention is snapped back to the front of the room when our teacher flicks the lights off and turns on a power-point. “What do you think about cross-genetic mutations? As in, mixing genes of animals to create a brand new one? Or upgrading the genes to make a super animal?” Some people raise their hands. I’m content with sitting back and listening and thinking.


	6. Chapter 5

It’s Saturday night, and Peeta Mellark is in my room, comforting me in my bed as I cry. How did I get here? To be honest, I’m not even sure. But here we are. I guess it all started after the end of classes yesterday, on Friday.

* * *

I walk out of Biology alone. I had stayed behind so Madge could walk out with the cute boy in class she’s obsessed with (Marvel, just his name makes me gag, or is that more morning sickness?). The things I do for friends. Giving Peeta my virginity, being ostracized for Madge… I am hardly paying attention and I run smack dab into Peeta, himself. With an ‘oomf’, my backpack slips off my back and papers scatter the halls. Ugh.

“Hey, Katniss!” His voice jumps about an octave-and-a-half. I raise my eyebrows at him and he coughs nervously. “What’s up?”

“Just walking out of class- oh _and_ spilling all my stuff across the school.” I glare at him.

He laughs and starts picking my stuff up. “I’m real sorry, Katniss. I didn’t mean to.”

After all my stuff is gathered, he stares at me expectantly, with an odd smile on his face. “So… how are you?”

Puzzled, I respond. “Pretty good, I guess. Darius is leaving, which is a bummer-“ Peeta cuts me off.

“No, I mean, how _are_ you?” He gestures to his stomach. I roll my eyes and grab his collar, dragging him down a secluded hallway. The next ‘class’ of the day is lunch, and I don’t mind being late for that. Our cafeteria leaves a lot to be desired.

“Could you be more _subtle_?” I snap, as I half-heartedly shove him down the hall. He just laughs at me.

“Katniss, in a few months, your stomach is going to be anything _but_ subtle,” he says in his annoyingly adorable Peeta way. I continue to glare at him in what I’m sure is my typical bitchy way. He just continues to laugh and pulls me in for another hug.

“What are you doing tonight?” he murmurs in my ear. I jerk back in shock.

“Cleaning up Haymitch, taking care of Primrose and watching T.V., why?” My tone sounds so guarded and it makes me wince. Must I always be this suspicious?

Peeta shrugs. “I’m going out to a party and I was wondering if you’d wanna go with me.”

I snort. “Not sure drinking is the best thing to do in my condition.”

“All the better,” he smiles. “You can take care of me when I get sick.”

I roll my eyes. “The situation needs to be reversed, actually.”

“You’d never let me.” Peeta responds without any hesitation. I stare at him in shock, and watch his face flash through all the different emotions before settling on regret. “I didn’t mean it that way…”

“No, it’s fine.” My voice sounds different to me, and I know it’s the hormones speaking. “So, why so anxious to go to some party? Wanna make sure you get your last bits of fun in before this” I wave my hand to my stomach, “happens?”

Peeta looks flabbergasted. “Katniss, you _know_ that’s not it…”

“What, is that obnoxious Glimmer going to be there? Or what about _Clove_? Bet your mama would love that… a girl named after a spice. She’d fit right in around the bakery!” Peeta’s  family owns a delightful bakery full of the most wonderful cakes and desserts… I’ve never even tried one besides the ones he brought to kindergarten to share. Too poor for that, and his mom would die before shelling out charity to the likes of me.

“Katniss, stop it right now…” Peeta’s tone is warning, but I don’t care. I try to begin speaking again when he covers my mouth with his hand and glares at me. “Shut up!”

I back down, and my mind pulses with a strange mixture of pissed off and… strangely, turned on. I shiver and try to block the feelings out.

“I wanted you to come with me as… as like a date. I know we’re best friends, but I just… I dunno. I really like you, Katniss.”

My heart sinks. Literally sinks. Lunch is slowly ticking by, but my stomach is feeling too many emotions to eat right now. I kind of have to puke again.

“Me?” Is all I manage to squeak out before Peeta blushes.

“I don’t expect this to turn into anything immediately. And I’m _not_ doing this because of the baby. I’m doing this because… well, you sing beautifully. I know you think I’ve never heard you, but I have. And your skin is the prettiest color ever. And your hair is like silk. And you’re never afraid of anything. Fearless Katniss.” Peeta reaches over and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. I stand perfectly still, but close my eyes when his hand drags across my cheek. It lingers there, and he rubs his thumb across my cheek bone.

I feel my skin heat up at his touch, and remember two months ago in a wave. My body pulses. I want so badly to kiss him and pull him into a janitor’s closet.

I have to pull myself together. “Peeta… I can’t... I didn’t know you felt this way. And while you are like, one of my best friends, and the nicest guy in school, I can’t say I feel that way yet. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t _love_ people… Just Prim.” Peeta’s face falls, but I raise a finger, gesturing that he wait a second.

“But. I can’t say I’m not… attracted to you. And I have to admit that I did initiate our… experimentation. So, because you were so good at humoring me, I’ll return the favor.” Peeta’s face lights up. “I’ll go to this party with you under one condition.”

Peeta smiles. “Anything.”

“You have to watch _any_ and _all_ movies of my choosing all Saturday day and night.” I smirk, thinking about all the gory-horror films I’m about to subject bread-boy to. His face falters, but he sighs.

“You drive a hard bargain, Everdeen, but I’ll do anything for a date with you.”

“So, this is a date?” I ask, tilting my head in almost a… flirtatious way? Wait, what am I doing?

Peeta gulps, obviously thrown off by my behavior, and his face flushes a bright red. “It’s a date.”

I nod with a naughty grin on my face, and walk off, paying extra attention to the amount of swing I put into my hips. I feel Peeta’s eyes on my body the entire time, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve never felt like this before, never acted like this.

And to be honest, I love it.

* * *

“I look awful.” I glare at my reflection. Why I let a _thirteen_ year old and the Mayor’s daughter pick out my outfit is beyond me. They have me in some frilly top that’s supposed to highlight my boobs (it makes me look like a pirate) and skinny jeans that are beyond skinny and have reached levels of torture. I kick at the floor, where my ankles are twisted into impractical heels- all clothes borrowed from Madge. Primrose sighs.

“Katniss, you are _beautiful_. Peeta’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you.”

Madge nods, and I huff at the both of them.

“Hello, two months pregnant here? Just because I’m not showing doesn’t mean I don’t feel fat in _everything_.”

Primrose stares at me for a long time, and I can see the gears in her head turning. She commands me to strip, while Madge sits me down in a chair and begins to do my hair. I wanted to just pull it back in my typical braid, but Prim told me that leaving it down would create an illusion of mystery and allure.

I wanted to tell her that there isn’t anything mysterious or alluring left for Peeta, but I decided against it. Prim’s too sweet for my sour attitude.

Madge is wrapping my hair around some kind of heated rod, and it’s turning my normally straight hair into dark, wild curls. She starts doing my make-up; Primrose is still going through the big pile of clothes that Madge brought over.

Prim exclaims when she finds _something_ for me to wear, and tosses it at me. I feel the material, it’s soft and slightly worn. I hear Madge give a slight hum of approval, and I get curious over the shirt. Fortunately, Madge finishes my makeup quicker than it took to do my hair, and I can look down at the top.

It’s a light green color, almost grey (like my eyes) and soft. It’s a scoop neck and cut directly under my boobs, so the stomach flares out (effectively hiding any pudge). My sister has also thrown over a pair of my own jeans, baggy and ripped. She grabs a belt from Madge’s bag, and places the jeans where they belong. Finally, she hands me a pair of converse sneakers. They’re Madge’s, a nice black color and super comfortable. I turn to look at my refection and gasp.

The shirt fits my body perfectly, and the jeans only accent the added curves I’ve gained. My hair is loose and curly, and the make-up doesn’t take over my face, but simply accents the colors and contours of my appearance.

I turn to look at Madge and Prim, and try to keep my face as somber as possible. “I guess it’s okay.”

The two squeal and pull me in for a hug. I feel happier than I have in a while.

* * *

Scratch that. Any happy feelings I’d been experiencing are shot.

I’m at this stupid party with Peeta, who’s been hovering for an hour. And the looks I’ve been getting are out of this world. Girls are glaring, boys’ eyes are staring at my chest, and quite frankly, this entire escapade has been far too intimate for my liking.

“Are you having fun?” This is his fifteenth time asking me since we arrived. I’ve been playing nice, but now I’m just cranky.

“Define ‘fun’.” I shoot him one of my sharpest looks. Prim swears I practice them in the mirror, but that’s ridiculous. I was _born_ with this never-ending anger.

Peeta sighs. “I’m sorry… We should have just gone to some diner for food. I didn’t mean to push you into this…” He looks distraught. He’s had a few cups of beer since arriving, and with every passing minute he gets more and more touchy-feely.

Now it’s my turn to sigh. I’m just a big meanie. “I’m not trying hard enough, Peeta, it’s my fault.”

Peeta’s desolate expression brightens to what one might call a manic smile and he pulls me into a tight hug. Clove, who’s been hovering by Peeta the entire night, lets out an indignant gasp. After hearing that, I remove myself from his embrace. I don’t want people looking at us, but a cursory glance around the room tells me I’m out of luck- half the room is staring in awe.

Peeta Mellark and I holding hands, that’s normal. Us hanging out together every day; it happens. We finish each other’s sentences, thoughts, and lunches. We have spent every day together since the day we met.

However, everyone had me pegged as Gale’s girl (which, yuck. Gale doesn’t shower enough for me, and he has a definite temper problem) and Peeta as, well… the guy to land a girl like Glimmer and Clove.

Peeta and I hugging has now set off a catalyst that I’m not sure I want to see the other end of. I excuse myself to the bathroom, and quickly walk down the hall. I try to control my breathing. Peeta calls after me, but I don’t look. Once I’m locked safely in this tiny room, I let my shaky breath out.

Maybe people won’t see this as our first date. Maybe they think ol’ Stick In The Mud Katniss is finally branching out. Maybe they can see that Peeta is drunk as a skunk and just being overly affectionate.

I may have been slightly excited about going out with Peeta, but I never imagined this scenario. I thought I’d be the cool, calculated girl, who makes not-drinking look cool. Instead, I ended up looking like Peeta’s baby sitter who’s following him around desperately. Plus, the entire party just played peeping Tom and now thinks they know something they don’t. 

I grab a random washcloth and rinse it with cold water, and dab it across my sweaty brow. My phone chimes, just once.

Haymitch bought me a cell phone on my birthday this year. He said he knew I’d always be a wanderer, but this was in case I ever needed him.

I know he thinks of his family when he looks at my phone, because, if _only_ he’d have had one when he was my age, his family might still be alive. Or, at least, he wouldn’t be the only survivor dealing with ghosts.

I open up my phone and see a picture message from Gale, with the caption ‘what the hell?’

It’s the picture of me and Peeta hugging. Someone must have snapped a photo downstairs. I want to throw my phone against a wall.

Gale must be livid. He hates being left out, but will never admit it, and this probably struck him from left field.

I take in a deep breath, throw my shoulders back, and march out of the bathroom. I bump right into Peeta, who must have been waiting for me. He looks like he’s sobered up.

“I want to go home.” I tell him, stiffly. He doesn’t have the energy to argue, just nods and follows me down the stairs. People are hooting and hollering, but I give them the finger and storm out the front door, all the while holding back tears.

This fucking sucks.

* * *

 

When I pull up to Peeta’s house, he tries to talk to me. But I’m still staring out the front window, silent. I’ve been silent the entire way home. I hope he gets the hint.

“I’m really sorry, Katniss,” he says after a pause, and climbs out of Haymitch’s old car. He let me borrow it, snickering about my ‘first date’. I would have punched him if it hadn’t been a nice gift. I see a flash of light out of the corner of my eye, and can only assume his mother’s been spying at us. _Wonderful_.

As soon as Peeta shuts the door I speed off. Haymitch would call me a crazy person, Primrose would call me mean, but I didn’t care.

I couldn’t let Peeta see me cry.

* * *

 

“What’s wrong?” Primrose cries out as I stumble through our front door. I’ve been bawling my eyes out as I was driving home, blaring some old CD I found of Haymitch’s. My hair is wet from the tears, my make-up must look awful, and I had to pull over to puke not once, but twice, on the way home.

“I hate parties.” I sniffle, trying to hide my face from Primrose.

She runs and hugs me, as I sob into her shoulder. I _really_ didn’t want to be crying on my twelve year old sister, but I can’t stop. I _hate_ being pregnant.

“Sweetheart?” Haymitch sounds surprisingly sober. I slowly turn to look at him, and his face is an open book of fury. “Do I need to go show that Mellark boy a thing or two about respecting women?”

I shake my head but before I can explain, he barrels on. “Or is it his _bitch_ of a mother running her mouth again?” The words are grinding out; I’m surprised he hasn’t exploded.

“I can handle pushy boys and bitchy moms, Haymitch.” His unexpected show of authority has shocked the tears out of me. “It’s the nosey party-goers and this” I gesture down at my stomach “new wave of emotions I can’t deal with.”

Haymitch shakes his head at me. “Why are you letting a bunch of high schoolers get you down? You never have before. “

I can’t respond, so I shrug and wipe the rest of my tears away. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Sounds good.” Haymitch’s eyes haven’t left my tear stained face, so I scowl and leave the kitchen. Leave it to Haymitch to make a situation go from catastrophic to annoying. Wait. I guess that’s a good thing.

 _Fuck_ him for being right.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up to twenty three texts on my phone. Two from Peeta, one more from Gale, and the rest from random numbers. I guess I’m not as invisible as I think I am, everyone in the school district seems to have my number.

“Saw you and Mellark- do his buns taste as good as they look?”

“LOL it’s Cinderella and Prince Charming”

“If he kisses her, will she turn into a princess?”

The least original, finally, is a single word. I’m assuming it’s from Clove or Glimmer, one of those stupid girls, because it just says “Slut”.

Cute.

Regardless of how much I say I don’t care, this really does bother me. Gale’s text just seems hurt- “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

I might not talk much about him, or to him, but that’s because he’s so busy lately. He’s been a dating fiend, as well as taking up at the grocery store, organizing stock. He doesn’t go to the shooting range nearly as much, and to be honest, I didn’t know _how_ to tell him that I not only fucked the other third of our perfect friendship, but am also knocked up.

There was just no tactful way of putting it.

I throw my phone on my bed and watch it bounce away. I want to throw myself on my bed, too, and sob, but Primrose pads into my room. “What are you doing up?” I ask her. I’m more of a morning person, while Prim likes to sleep in.

“I dreamt that you ran away,” she tells me, in her point-blank way, and pulls me into a hug. “Don’t leave me.”

I sit on the bed and cuddle her close to me, like she is a baby. “I promise I’ll never leave you.”

She straightens out and nods. “So what exactly happened last night?” I immediately feel the hot flush of humiliation run through me, and she shakes her head. “Tell me, it’ll make you feel better.”

I don’t want to tell my little sister that her big sister is now the slut of the school. Thank _God_ I didn’t wear anything that exposed more (like I would); I can’t even imagine the field day they’d have over that.

I’m about to brush off the situation completely when my phone buzzes. I get a frantic look in my eyes and dive for it- but Prim reaches it first. She opens it and gasps.

On the screen is the infamous picture, and with the caption: “Are you banging him and Gale? Whore.”

Prim’s eyes search mine for answers that I can’t give her, and I see tears welling in the corners. “Prim, shit, please don’t-“

It’s too late. “How freaking _dare_ they, Katniss?! Who is this? I can’t _wait_ to show this to Gale _and_ Peeta… And-and Haymitch! That’ll show them!” Primrose’s anger is so sweet, like a kitten spitting for the first time. I would laugh if I wasn’t so depressed.

“They already know. Well, Gale does. And he’s- he’s not exactly _on my side_ …” Primrose shakes her head.

“I highly doubt that your _best friend_ would ignore you in your time of need!” Her tone is so proper that I can’t help but smirk.

I pull her into a hug. “He didn’t know.”

“How could you not tell him?!” Prim blows up, not that I don’t blame her. I hide from her accusing eyes and stare at the comforter. “Nevermind, what does _Peeta_ have to say about all this?”

I shake my head. “He texted me but I didn’t read them. I was too busy looking over my… fan mail.” I take my phone back from her hands and scroll through the texts until I reach Peeta’s. There is one from last night- probably after I dropped him off- and one from sometime this morning.

“Im sorry tehy did that 2 u”. Literate. Nothing like my- I mean, not _my_ Peeta, but nothing like the Peeta I know. I shake my head. _Stop arguing with your thoughts!_

Primrose reads over my shoulder and coos. “Drunken texts are so cute.” I snap my attention to her.

“You _better_ not be getting drunk texts from _anyone_ … Especially not Rory…!” Primrose rolls her eyes and points at the phone, signaling that I need to read the other text.

“Katniss, I’m so, so sorry about last night. I made an ass of myself and left you alone. Please, call me as soon as possible. Peeta.”

If her first reaction was obnoxious, Primrose’s response to this text is downright nauseating. “Omigod, he is _so_ adorable.” She practically swoons. My little sister. Swooning.

I shove her off my bed and she tumbles down, laughing all the way. “You can’t fool me, Katniss Everdeen. You _liiiiiike_ him!” She sings, in her typical, out-of-tune voice. I glare and she runs out, giggling madly.

I throw my body back onto my bed and try to bury my head into my pillow. I’m about to doze off back into a nap when the phone buzzes one last time. Reluctantly, I open it up.

“Didn’t know she could afford to pay for her dates.”

Groan.

* * *

 

“Katniss, there’s a guest for you!” Primrose’s sweet voice calls from the living room. I haven’t moved from my bed since this morning, aside from the three times I puked, and I’m not in the mood for company. It’s either Madge, who will want to gossip about my first ‘date’, or Gale, who’s here to yell at me. I dig my face further into my pillow.

Prim doesn’t call again, so I’m hoping she’s told whoever it is that I’m sick and not up for friends. When I hear foosteps trailing to my room, I assume it’s Primrose. Haymitch is out with some _lady friend_ , and left us alone for the night. This usually means some kind of delivery- Chinese take-out or pizza- but I’m not feeling the greasy food. Instead, I just want waffles.

“Buzz _off_ , little duck.” I call warningly. “Or I’ll projectile vomit on you.”

“Please, don’t.” A surprisingly deep voice responds. I shoot up from my pillows and my eyes fall on none other than Peeta Mellark. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” I respond, and glance at my alarm clock. It reads 6:09, and I’m in shock at how long I’ve been in bed all day. Immediately, my hands find my messy hair and try straightening it out.

He shuffles awkwardly, as though he doesn’t know what to do, and then looks at me. His expression is helpless, and my heart goes out to him- if only for a second. “I’m here to apologize. Formally.”

“You don’t have to.” I pull my hair into a braid and relax. I feel stronger with my hair in its usual form.

He gestures to the bed in question and I nod. He sits down beside me and sighs. “But I _do_ , Katniss. I let the excitement of the night take over and made a mistake- and in turn, I hurt you. I was just so excited to bring you out with me, I didn’t even think about people’s reactions…” He starts to explain, but I raise my hand to silence him.

“It’s not your fault that people hate me.” I say, simply. He gapes.

“No, they don’t _hate_ you, I just didn’t do this properly. A _gentleman_ would introduce you as his girlfriend, and punch any guy that looked at you funny. A _gentleman_ wouldn’t let any girl call you any name under her breath, and a _gentleman_ wouldn’t leave his girl alone and upset.” His eyes flash with anger, and my stomach twists with a mixture of guilt and… horniness? Ugh- pregnancy hormones.

“I’m not even upset about what everyone is saying about _me_. That’s expected. But what they say about you- that’s what kills me.” I don’t know how to talk anymore, so I hope that’s enough. Peeta nods in understanding, but his tone is slightly incensed, still.

“But, Katniss, they were awful to you, and I was too oblivious to do anything. That’s not okay.”

I shrug. “Well, I forgive you… as long as you help me find a way to explain this to Gale.”

His eyes widen. “Shit.”

“Shit is right! He’s hurt.” I explain. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him before, when I was planning on… getting rid of it. And by the time I decided to _keep_ it, well, I just-“ Forgot. I forgot to tell my best friend.

Peeta reaches out and grabs my hand. “Well, either way. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere, Katniss.”

His words are so reassuring, and his eyes are so full of honesty that I can’t help it. Tears stream down my face as I sob.

“I’m sorry, what did I do?” He asks, his tone panicked. He thinks he’s hurt me.

“No, no. It’s just-“ I hiccup. “I didn’t expect you to want to stay.”

Peeta gives me a look that says ‘why not?’ and I explain.

“Most guys just leave but you stayed.” I pause to sniffle, and he gets up and grabs me a tissue. I take it gratefully and blow my nose. “You don’t care that I’m ruining your life.”

“How are you ruining my life? You-“ Peeta stops, and shakes his head. I’m about to enquire what he was about to say, when my stomach rolls painfully. I jump up and run to the bathroom.

I make it just in time to vomit for the fifth time today. Baby is really unhappy with me today. My retching sounds awful to my own ears, and there’s no food left to cough up, just bile.

Peeta’s hands are reassuring me on my back the second I hunch over. I moan gratefully. “Thank you.” I reply, as I finish and wipe my face. “Can you hand me-“ I point to the toothbrush and he complies quickly. I scrub my teeth thoroughly before spitting in the sink.

“Gross.”

“You do that a lot?” he asks. “I’m so sorry.”

I am about to say something mindlessly, but then stop short and laugh.

“What?” He asks.

I stop laughing for a second. “I was about to say, it isn’t your fault… but it kind of is!”

The laughter turns to tears again before I can react and I’m crying in my bathroom. Peeta grabs my arm and leads me carefully to my bedroom, where he puts me on the bed and follows suit, cuddling me carefully.

“Anything you need?” he asks, running his hand over my braid. It feels nice, and I push my head into his hand like a cat.

“Yeah… waffles would be nice.”

Peeta gives me a befuddled look, and then laughs. “Oh, Katniss.” He says.

I watch him leave and think to myself- _this isn’t so bad_. He is here for me. He wants to be here, and doesn’t care about ruining his life. I’m not sure his mom knows yet, but when she does… will it matter? He’ll be old enough that she won’t matter anymore. He and I- we’re great friends. Friends who kiss and flirt and cuddle, but friends. And we can do this. We can raise a baby in a happy, healthy environment. For the most part.

I’m filled with happiness.

Happiness that is only matched by Peeta walking back into my room with a plateful of waffles.

He laughs as I inhale them greedily. I almost don’t notice the way his arm slips around my waist.

Almost.


	7. Chapter 6

I wake up to a rather foul smell being blown onto my face. I open my eyes slowly, and come face to face with Peeta Mellark.

“Get up!” I squeak, and shove him off the bed. He snaps awake just before he lands on the ground with a loud _thump_. I’m trying to calm my breathing when Haymitch hollers from downstairs.

“You okay, sweetheart?” I can hear his stomps as he makes his way upstairs, and my heart rate quickens.

Peeta, who’s sitting on the floor, looks at me curiously. “Get out of my room! Haymitch is going to _kill_ me!” I groan, and point to the window. Peeta gives me a dirty look- I live on the second floor.

Haymitch has never been strict with me, ever. I can drink when and where I want, I am not expected to meet any kind of curfew, and for breakfast, lunch and dinner I could eat candy for all he cares.

The only rules he has for me and for Prim include boys. It nearly gave him a heart attack when he realized my two best friends were of the male variety.

“Katniss, I-“ Peeta starts but I gesture him to shut up. My door creaks open, and I throw a blanket over the offending male. I try to look natural as Haymitch appears, slouching in my doorway.

“What are you doing in here?” He stares at the lump on the floor. My stomach turns again.

“It isn’t what you think-“ I begin to explain, and he rolls his eyes.

“I know I’ve always been hard on you two about boys, but there’s not much more damage to be done, is there?” Haymitch guffaws at his own joke, and walks over to Peeta, who’s still hiding under the blanket. Haymitch plucks the cloth off his head and pats my friend on the back. “Just make sure you ask next time, okay, kid?”

Peeta’s mouth open and closes, before he settles on a nod. His face flushes bright pink, and it would be adorable if I wasn’t so annoyed. _Kid? What, is Peeta four now?_

“This has been fun, and all, but you need to leave.” I give a dirty look to my guardian.

Haymitch, for his part, laughs and shakes his head. “What’s there left for you two to do? You’re already knocked up, sweetheart.”

I throw my pillow at him, which only makes him laugh harder as he retreats and shuts the door behind him.

We sit in silence.

“You going to apologize?” Peeta asks, breaking the quiet. I glare at him from my post on the bed.

“What happened last night? Aren’t your parents going to be pissed?” I answer his question with one of my own. He grabs the side of my bed and pulls himself up so he’s sitting with me again.

“Nah, they think I’m at Bannock’s,” his tone is simple.

I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly. “Had high hopes about last night, did we?”

Peeta shrugs in response. “I was going to wait out front for you all night.” From the ease of his voice and body language, I don’t doubt him. It makes me feel weird.

I need to change the topic.

“Yeah, well. What happened? Why didn’t you leave?” I vaguely remember popping in Scream 4, the newest in my favorite series of slasher flicks, before passing out. I just assumed he’d up and leave, but I guess not.

“I’ve never seen the ending of that movie, and by the time it was over, I was way too tired to go anywhere. I just texted my dad and told him I was staying over at Bannock’s, asked Bannock to cover for me, and then fell asleep.”

I feel embarrassed for getting so annoyed. It’s not like Peeta Mellark would ever take advantage of me. “I’m sorry.” I find myself saying before I can stop myself.

If he’s shocked, he doesn’t show it. He just sends me a simple smile and stretches out. “Well, now that that’s all sorted out, we have something to take care of.”

I can tell what’s coming next, and it makes my stomach sink even lower than it was before.

“We need to talk to Gale.”

* * *

 

After an… interesting morning of Peeta borrowing my toothbrush, me puking twice, and finding clothes that made my bloated stomach feel comfortable, we were on the road to Gale’s house.

“Maybe he’s not there.” I offered, with hope teeming in my tone. “We could always just come back later… Or never…”

Peeta smiles and pats his hand on the console in the center. I take it as my cue to slide my hand into his, and he grips it tightly. “We’ll be fine. Gale’s always seen us as his younger siblings, and I’m sure he’s weirded out by… this.”

“He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant, Peeta.” I try to reason with him, but he shakes his head.

“And that’ll be hard to explain, but I think you’re just more embarrassed than nervous.” I don’t have an argument for this, so I sit in silence as he continues. “Gale’s a great guy; loyal, understanding and passionate. He would never abandon you, and only wants you to be happy. He’s also probably a little mad about being left out, but he’ll get over that.”

I’m comforted by Peeta’s words, and rest my head back on the seat. “God, I hate moving vehicles.”

“Is the baby bothering you?” Peeta asks, his tone changing from explanatory to concerned. “Am I driving too fast?”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just a big baby.” I subconsciously rub my hand over my stomach. It hasn’t begun to bulge yet. I can’t help but wonder what it’s going to look like in a few months.

Peeta chuckles. “You’re stronger than me.”

We drive in companionable silence after that, and when we reach Gale’s, I take a few moments to breathe in the air and calm my stomach. It’s the worst mixture of motion sickness and nerves, and if I hadn’t already emptied the contents of my stomach, I would be doing that right now. Peeta waits patiently, and when I’m ready to go in, he grabs my hand. His is slightly cool and clammy, and for some reason, the thought of him also being nervous makes me feel better.

We reach the door and he knocks, carefully. It is almost immediately pulled open by Posy Hawthorne, with Hazelle behind her. “You two here to see Gale?” She asks with her soothing country voice. I nod, and she calls for her oldest son.

He comes thumping to the door, but stops short when he sees us. “Hello,” he greets coldly.

“Can we talk?” I blurt out. “All three of us?” Hazelle gestures for her youngest to leave with her, but Posy’s enamored with the drama unfolding before her. Primrose used to be the same way.

Gale nods, and pushes himself out the door, telling his mom he’ll be back ‘later’. We follow his fast strides as he leads us into the woods behind his home. We go deep, to the place where Gale and I sometimes practice archery, and rest on some felled logs.

“I guess, first things first…” I start and take a deep breath. His grey eyes watch me carefully. “I’m, um… pregnant.”

Gale doesn’t physically react, but I can see the gears turning behind his eyes. He gives Peeta a look, who meets his eyes confidently. However, his hand, which I am still holding, is now sweating. Cute.

I pull my hand away gently, and reach out for Gale’s. “It wasn’t… It’s not… It was my fault. I was being myself, and made a mistake, but it wasn’t really a _mistake_ , it just…” I’m torn between acting blasé about the entire thing, and respecting Peeta, who’s now trying to take a deep breath beside me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, it’s just when Tara was…” I don’t know how much of this sordid tale he told Peeta, so I let the detail hang between us. Gale’s eyes flash with understanding, before he sighs.

“So, are you two…?” He gestures between the two of us.

“We’re just testing the waters.” I say, before Peeta can say something ridiculous. And it’s true. I don’t know _how_ I feel about this boy. I know he’s the father of my baby. I know he’s one of my best friends. And I know he’s a _great_ kisser, but other than that…

Gale nods, again. “Well. I can’t say I’m happy with you two. I have always felt kind of left out. You always feel more comfortable talking to each other about stuff than me.” I want to jump in and deny it, but that would mean lying. Gale, for all his passion and loyalty, isn’t exactly someone you confide your troubles in. I’m sure Peeta feels the same way, as his eyes are downcast.

“But, you can’t change the past. And as long as he’s going to help out, and not leave you alone, I can’t be mad at you, either.”

Gale’s understanding makes my heart skip a beat. So he isn’t angry, he’s just hurt. Just like Peeta said.

Peeta laughs a quick, barking laugh in relief. I feel like my smile might break my face in half, and the jumpy nerves of my stomach almost entirely disappear. Gale cracks the tiniest of grins and pulls Peeta in for a hug, before scooping me up and twirling me around.

It’s not perfect, but is anything ever supposed to be?

* * *

 

On the walk back to Gale’s house, I feel the tension release from my shoulders. For a while there, I really felt as if I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. But now, what did it matter? My two best friends know my secret, as did my family, and none of them hate me. As a matter of fact, Peeta seems almost… enthused about the entire situation. Part of me really wants to know what that’s about, but I push the thought out of my brain.

“Would you two like to stay for lunch?” Hazelle calls out when we reach the front yard. Peeta and I exchange a quick look, before he answers yes for the both of us. We follow Gale into the house and settle around the table, which has already been set.

“It was going to be a lonely lunch without the two of you.” Hazelle tells us as she sets a plate of sandwiches and a pot of macaroni and cheese in front of us.

“Why’s that, Mrs. Hawthorne?” Peeta is always so formal with her, and she waves him off.

“It’s Hazelle, mom, or nothing, sweetie. I’ve told you this.” Peeta smiles at woman, who continues. “Well, Vick’s got some meeting for the scouts or some other, and Rory’s…, well, he’s with that sweet little sister of yours, Katniss.”

“Really?” I ask, scooping a healthy amount of macaroni on my plate. “Prim never mentioned that…”

“Probably because she knew you’d tease her.” Gale remarks, as he steals the pot from me. I stick my tongue out at him, and Hazelle laughs. Peeta nibbles on his sandwich, while Posy eyes me carefully.

“You look fatter, Katniss.” She remarks, and the laughter ceases.

“Posy, what do you say?” Hazelle asks, her tone much different than its casual, matronly one.

Posy shrugs. “I’m sorry. I just noticed she looks more like a big lady than a girl.”

Hazelle opens her mouth to scold her daughter, but shoots me a look instead. My face flushes, and from the corner of my eye, Peeta’s does, as well. Gale stares at the plate in front of him, and I know our actions only mean one thing: suspicion.

“Katniss Everdeen, are you…” She starts, but shakes her head.

“I’m pregnant.” I set my spoon down carefully. I’ve always seen Hazelle as a mother figure, but telling her doesn’t feel as bad as telling Haymitch did. She gasps, gets up, and pulls me into a hug.

“Pregnant? What does that mean? She’s having a baby?!” Posy’s voice shrieks louder and louder with each question. Gale slumps forward and puts his face in his hands, and Peeta grabs his glass and goes to refill it. I’m rocking in Hazelle’s tight grip, and shooting Peeta a ‘Thanks for leaving me alone in this’ look. He shrugs, and heads into the kitchen.

Hazelle suddenly releases me and looks to her oldest son. “Gale Hawthorne, what do you have to say for this?” I feel my face flush again. She thinks _Gale_ is the father?

“No, ma, it’s not mine!” He tries to defend himself, but it’s too late. She swoops in on him like a hawk, smacking him upside the head. “I thought I raised you better than this!”

“Hazelle stop! It’s not his, it’s…” I falter.

Thankfully, Peeta steps into the room and finishes for me.

“It’s mine… Hazelle.” He explains, and wraps his arms around my shoulders. I lean back into him, and she gasps, again.

Her eyes are watering. “Oh, of _course_ , the two of you…” She wipes a tear away, and I have to hide my grimace. I love her, but for someone who never deals with _motherly_ emotions, it’s hard for me to accept her love.

“Yeah,” is all I can say, before the silence takes over. Hazelle excuses herself, and Posy takes over as the talkative Hawthorne.

“You’re having a baby? Is it a boy or a girl? What will you name it? Can I play with it? Will Gale help you guys? Is he a daddy, too?” She directs her last question to Peeta, who, for his part, sincerely tries to answer her questions.

“Yes, we’re having a baby. We don’t know what to name it, because we don’t know if it’s a girl or boy. Of _course_ you can play with it, and Gale can… do what he pleases.” Peeta sends Gale a wink. “Change diapers, I guess.”

Gale scoffs and picks up his mother’s plate. “Sorry about all this, guys. Posy…” He starts, and his baby sister looks at him with her big doe eyes. He sighs. “Go take care of mom.”

Posy skips off to wherever Hazelle is hiding, and Gale turns to his friends. “I guess that was punishment enough for leaving me out.”

I scowl at my friend, who chuckles and pulls me in for a hug. “Have a nice day, you two.” He lets me go and pats Peeta’s back. “I’d say behave, but I guess that’s out of the question, hm?”

Gale is really testing my patience today. “Hey, I’m a pregnant woman with hormones ready to attack the next guy who even _looks_ at me funny, and you, my good sir, are so far beyond that level…” I want to continue, but Peeta grabs me by the arm.

“Well, we’ll be seeing you, Gale. Have a nice day, yourself!” He exclaims quickly as he pulls me out of the house. I can see from his expression that he didn’t doubt my threats.

Usually, in this situation, I would yank away and turn my fury on Peeta. But, today, his hand feels really soft around my arm, and his gentle tugging is almost… sweet. So, I accept it.

For now.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long since an update, I know. I want to thank everyone who's stuck with this- thanks for the various kudos and comments. I'm going to try to finish this. I just moved out of a really bad home situation and I'm still adjusting to my new apartment (and new kitten!!!). Anyway, thanks everyone! Here's chapter 7.

My thoughts are heavy as I brush my hair out and re-braid it. It’s Monday morning, and Peeta and I made a decision- together- that we would go to the nurse, the principal and the secretary about our ‘predicament’. They can’t expel us, but they’ll want to know for future purposes. As Peeta put it, “You might want to give them some warning before you just pop a kid out in class.”

I don’t see the humor in the situation, but I agreed, so now I need to look as professional as possible. Or, at least, as ‘un-pregnant’ as possible. I get up from my desk and check my appearance out in the mirror.

My stomach is still- thankfully- flat, but my boobs are even bigger than before. My hips are also getting bigger. Posy was right- I _am_ getting fatter. I want to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers all day.

Primrose walks in and changes my mind. “So, are you nervous?” She sees my state of undress and sighs. “Do you need me to dress you _all_ the time?”

“Hey, remember who the big sister is!” I shout, but my scolding is probably downsized by the fact that I’m just standing in my underwear. I don’t argue with her when she rummages through my closet.

“Here it is.” She announces, and pulls out a purple colored sundress. It’s tighter around my middle, and gives me lots of cleavage, but paired with the cardigan that Primrose also found, it will look sweet. I scowl.

“I don’t want to look like some _pastor’s_ kid.”

She thrusts the clothes toward me even more. “Well, they won’t think you’re a pastor’s kid with that.” She nods to my stomach. “Unless your name is Mary.”

She snorts at her own lame joke, and then leaves. I begrudgingly slip on the dress she handed me, and throw the sweater on top. I look simple, but I know people are going to talk about it. I usually don’t stand out like this.

People are already going to be talking, anyway. Just because the initial harassment is over, doesn’t mean they won’t have any more comments about me and Peeta’s scandal. While I search for shoes, I curse him under my breath.

“Stop swearing!” Primrose calls from the hallway. _How did she hear me?_

I sigh and slide on my dependable sandals. They go with anything.

“Hurry up, Peeta’s waiting for us, too!”

Peeta? Usually, it’s just Gale who comes to get us. I pick up my pace and grab my bag, meeting Prim in the upstairs hallway and head down the stairs. Just as she said, Peeta is standing there, waiting, along with Gale and his brood.

“Hi, guys!” Primrose calls out, and immediately runs to Rory’s side. I give Gale a look, and he smirks.

Vic, who is the youngest boy, is eyeing me with trepidation. I want to ask what is wrong, when I realize he’s staring at my stomach. _Great_.

“Let’s go.” I need to leave before I lose my temper at this little kid. Gale herds his brothers and sister out, and Primrose follows with Rory. I stay behind with Peeta, who grabs my hand reassuringly.

“You know you aren’t alone, right?” He tells me.

I guess I do.

I walk out the door and he follows, pausing as I reach back to shut it behind me. Haymitch is probably passed out, and while the thought of leaving the door open so some random feral animal would wander in and wake him up is hysterical, it doesn’t make me smile. Instead, I just want to get today over with as soon as possible.

The walk is more silent than normal, and I realize I’m punishing Peeta for today. I can’t help but do it. I know it isn’t fair, but it’s like my body is working without my instruction. I feel like a robot.

I turn to look at my friend, who’s still walking hand in hand with me. His face holds a mixed expression of worry and annoyance, and I feel disgusted with myself. I did that.

Fuck.

* * *

 

We sit uncomfortably in the principal’s office while we wait for him to sit down. He has been pacing around the room, getting things ready. I’ve heard rumors about our principal’s OCD, but I’ve never witnessed it.

It’s kind of annoying.

“I’m sorry about this, kids, just give me a second…” Mr. Flickerman trails off. I hold back my scoff. He sits down at his desk and begins flinging drawers open and digging through their contents, before slamming them shut with a smack noise. The first time he does it, I jump.

Peeta grabs a notebook and pencil from his bag and starts writing. I figure he’s getting himself ready for class, but when he sets the book in my lap, I realize he was writing me a note.

_Nice ponytail_ , is all it reads. Beside the words, there is a pretty decent looking caricature of Mr. Flickerman, his pony tail flapping in the breeze behind him.

I give him a wide-eyed look and have to physically contain my laughter. I take the pencil and scribble a message back.

_He’s probably looking for the 80’s._

Peeta snorts under his breath, and to cover for him (because Flickerman gave him a look), I say “Bless you.” However, we’re both giggling at this point, which must stress our principal out, so he relaxes back in his chair and looks us in the eyes, finally.

“Now, what is this information you have for me?” He asks, resting his chin on his hands. His elbows are setting precariously on the desk around a cup of coffee. I wonder what would happen if I yanked one of his arms loose- would he catch himself or land face first in a cup of coffee? The possibilities are running through my head, but I’m snapped out of my imagination by Peeta.

He clears his throat. “Well, sir, you see. We’re pregnant.”

Mr. Flickerman's jaw drops in an almost laughable way. _When did my life become an after-school special?_ “

Pregnant? But… You’re in high school!” He exclaims, as if this is news to us. I shoot Peeta a look, one that clearly says ‘this was a terrible idea’.

Our principal shakes his head at our lack of response. “Do your parents know?”

I scoff at his use of the word 'parents', clearly our Principal doesn't know the student body as well as he claims, but nod my head nonetheless. Peeta shocks me, however, when he says, “No, sir.”

No? I whip my head to look at him. My braid practically smacks me in the face by how quickly I turned. He gives me an apologetic look, and then directs his attention to Principal Flickerman, who’s speaking.

“While there’s nothing I can do to change the past, I can help you two adjust. I’ll hold a meeting with the staff and faculty to announce the situation, and they’ll take extra care with your _situation_.”

Great. So the entire school will know. My face flushes angrily, and I get up. “Sounds terrific.” I can hear the sarcasm in my tone, and I see Peeta flinch out of the corner of my eye. “Can I go now?”

Flickerman nods slowly, and I storm out, Peeta following behind.

“Kinda nice that we don’t have to tell the nurse and secretary, huh?” He’s trying to make conversation, but I’m walking too fast to answer.

I just want to get to my locker, grab my stuff and get out of his sight. I would rather clean up after one of Haymitch’s binges then speak to Peeta right now. I’m so busy fuming inside my own head that I don’t realize I’m running into someone, until she’s sprawled out on the floor.

“Katniss Everdeen, I was just looking for you!” She exclaims, and her bright green eyes meet mine. _Great, the freak of Panem High is talking to me. Could this day get any worse?_

“Hi, Annie!” Peeta greets from behind me. I roll my eyes and step around her collapsed form. I am not in the mood to please anyone right now.

I feel Peeta’s eyes boring into my back, and I really don’t care. I finally reach my locker and slam its door open. People are already staring at my outfit, and the fact that Peeta is following me like a lost puppy, so why not give them more of a show?

“That wasn’t very nice of you to do to Annie. She just wanted to see if you were okay… Katniss did you tell her about our _thing_?” Peeta is panting as he scolds me. I roll my eyes.

“No, Peeta, but she was at the clinic when I went to get rid of it. Or did you forget I tried to do that?” I don’t know where this anger is coming from, and I make no attempt to stop it. Peeta’s eyes are wide with hurt and sadness, but I can’t bring myself to pity him. “Don’t try to give me those puppy-dog eyes, either, Mellark. You put me here. You could easily run and hide and pretend none of this happened to you, but I’m going to be the one stuck! Everyone will know just by looking at me!”

Peeta’s expression goes hard, and a small, sick part of me feels better, because I got under his skin. I shut my locker and turn to leave when he grabs my arm.

“Will you let go-!” I shout. A crowd has begun to form. Peeta doesn’t care.

He pulls me in close and kisses me, softly, on the lips. My brain turns to mush. My knees go weak.

I want to punch him.

He releases me and smirks. I glare at him and storm away, pushing through the group of people surrounding us. Many of them are whispering, but I don’t care. I walk quickly until I’m out front of my next class. I slow down and, without thinking about it, reach my hands up to my still-tingling lips.

He smelled so _good_ when he was close to me. And that kiss was… well… amazing. I have to give him that.

I lean against the wall and sigh. What does this mean? Do I _like_ Peeta? Is my body forming hormones so I stay with the baby of my father? Or what?

I haven’t kissed anyone but him, so I have to wonder, do kisses always feel like that? I’ll have to ask someone… Madge, maybe. She’s done a lot of kissing.

The bell rings and startles me from my thoughts. I jump and run into class, sliding into my seat next to Madge.

“Busy morning?” She mutters, and I give her a look that says ‘you don’t want to know’. She gives a half shrug at my dirty look and turns to desk, which has our English book opened up to whatever page we’re supposed to be reading. I slowly flip through the pages, and wonder if I should talk to Madge about the week’s past events.

It’s been ridiculous- I went from wanting an abortion, to going on a date, to becoming laughing stock of school, to accepting the pregnancy and (maybe) developing feelings for my best friend. I don’t even know if I’d believe it all if someone else told me it happened to them.

Which, reminds me, I should probably ask Primrose about her weekend, as well. Especially if she’s going out with Rory…

I’m not paying attention when the teacher calls on me to continue reading where she left of. Mrs. Coin has never been a huge fan of me. Probably because I don’t pay attention in class much, but it's still unfair to target me.

Personally, I think Mrs. Coin looks like she belongs in an underground bunker. She may be older, but there’s no reason to be so pale and decrepit looking. Her hair also creeps me out- it’s just too- too straight, too gray, and all the same length. I guess there was a poll going around about it being a wig, and the kid who started it got expelled, but I’ve also learned (especially with the past week’s events) that rumors aren’t always what they seem.

I stare at my book. I have _no_ clue what’s going on. I guess we’ve been discussing the Great Gatsby, which I have read, but the English book has its own analysis we’re supposed to be comfortable with. This is exactly why I hate English, or at least, high school English. Can’t it just be about reading and what we think of it? Why does it matter what the author was trying to portray on page 95, paragraph two? Isn’t this about the general story about a man and his unrequited love for a woman?

Mrs. Coin scoffs. “Maybe next time you’ll pay attention, Miss Everdeen.” She goes back to her own book and reads the rest of the page aloud. I feel Madge’s eyes on me, and when I look, she’s giving me a sympathetic face.

Madge is a good friend. Quiet, caring and understanding. Why _couldn’t_ I be able to talk to her about what’s going on?

I grab my notebook and scrawl out a quick note for her. _This weekend was insane_. I hand the whole notebook to her as discretely as possible, and watch as she writes back.

_What do you mean? Is this about your date?_

_Well, for starters, everyone made a huge deal about Peeta and I…didn’t you get the text?_ I’m not sure if she would have been involved or not- she’s popular with guys and very pretty, but doesn’t spend a lot of time in social circles.

_WHAT?! No! I mean, I heard Glimmer saying something in homeroom, but I couldn’t hear it. What happened?_

Great. I didn’t realize Glimmer and Madge had homeroom together. I scribble back, _Well, someone caught a picture of Peeta and I hugging and send a mass text- you won’t believe how rude some of our classmates can be._

_So, do people know you’re pregnant?_

I shake my head at her. _But Peeta’s all for it. He wants to raise the baby. And we told Gale, and he’s happy for us._

Madge gives a contented sigh. Our page is full of scribbles back and forth- her neat cursive and my fifth-grade scrawl.

She gives me a smile, and my bad mood (which had begun to dissipate already) goes away. It’s going to be _nice_ to have her- someone I can talk to about girl things and my emotions and the baby. Primrose is my sister, and I love her, but she’s only thirteen, and I don’t want to fill her head with _any_ ideas, good or bad.

Class flies by after my discovery of my newest friend. I slam my English book shut and am about to shove it, and my notebook, in my bag.

However, the worst thing that could possibly happen _ever_ happens.

Cato Greene grabs my notebook and rips the page out that Madge and I had been scribbling on.

I watch with horror as his malicious smile turns into shock. “You’re _pregnant_?” He cries out. “Who did that, Mellark? Is that why he’s dating you?”

I don’t want to cry, but I feel like I can’t help it. My eyes are welling up and my throat is closing. Madge, for all her goodness, is giving Cato the look of death.

“You piece of crap,” she begins, “You put that notebook back where you found it and move on. This is _none_ of your business!”

With her golden hair and pearl earrings, she looks like a mini-mom. I bet other people feel comforted when she stands up for them. I just can’t stop the feeling of nausea as it flows through my body. I have to get out of this room.

Unfortunately, everyone heard Cato’s outburst, and now they’re either texting someone or gossiping to the person next to them. Mrs. Coin stands at the front of the room, shocked. She gives me a look- as though it’s _my_ fault that the entire room is in hysterics. I didn’t _ask_ Cato to announce my predicament, lady.

The tears are falling, and people are pointing, and suddenly, I can’t take it. I run out of the room, once again knocking people over. There are people in the hall, and I can see them reading their cell phones, and then looking up. At me.

It’s like time slows down when Peeta appears in my line of vision. I’m full out sobbing at this point, and instead of running into his arms (like, for some reason, my body is telling me to) I run down the opposite way to the nurse’s office.

She doesn’t ask why I want to go home so badly when I arrive, and I wonder if Flickerman has already sent the memo. I find that I don’t care. When Haymitch comes to pick me up, I’m still bawling like a baby. He rubs my back as we walk to his car together. He doesn’t try to ask me what’s wrong, but I think he already knows.

I want to disappear.


End file.
